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       very day starts the same and I like it that way. I set my alarm for 9am. I'm aware this might be considered late, but I work from home and make my own rules because I'm a thirty-two -year-old adult who hates mornings with a firing passion.

If I get any more than precisely 8.5 hours sleep, I'm grumpy for the rest of the day.  If I get any less than 8.5 hours sleep, I'm grumpy for the rest of the day. If I'm to have a productive day I must adhere to these strict self-imposed alarm rules. The timing is a delicate science that has taken several years to perfect.

I leap out of bed. Yes, leap. I'm not a rolling out of bed kind of person. I open my curtains and inspect my terrace for pigeons. I hate pigeons; the way they look, the sounds they make, the shit they produce, their very existence pisses me off. If I spot a pigeon on my balcony in the morning, it'll play on my mind for the next half an hour.


Pigeons often wake me up in the middle of the night and I'll run outside like a mad woman, hair strung in all directions, clapping at them until my palms are raw, screaming 'shoo!' and 'baaah!' at the top of my lungs. You might laugh, but just don't. These flying rats are getting cockier by the day, particularly in my borough. I decided to take matters into my own hands last year and bought an array of BB guns online at a fairly reasonable price. They were black and came with 300 glow-in-the-dark super turbo pellets (able to travel up to 3 metres). I was fully prepared. But, like I said, these are not normal pigeons, they're quick and street savvy, surviving off a diet of Marlboro Light fag ends and  people's discarded kebabs and baby nappies. I'm starting to believe the conspiracy theory that they are, in fact, human spying machines invented by the CIA.



Every morning, without fail, I'll go for a walk. By this time, it's around 9:30am. I do it to clear my head, to get some fresh air, and to give my body some sort of movement as it's most likely not going to benefit from any other exercise for the remainder of the day. This is because I don't move from my desk.

The walk is always to the same destination: my local coffee shop. It's a 10 minute walk through a park that's always filled with happy dogs and angry owners. I always order the same thing; a coconut flat white, extra hot. This is because almond milk is watery, soya milk is bad for your ovaries, oat milk is fattening and far too 'oaty'. Therefore, all I'm left with that doesn't come from a cow, is a coconut. Naturally it makes my drink taste more like a dessert but I'm not complaining. The coffee is usually too much on the lukewarm side but I'm too polite of a person to say anything. I clutch the mildly appealing recyclable (and compostable) coffee cup and sulk internally. 

By the time I return home I've finished the coffee and I'm wishing I'd ordered a backup. My breakfast for the past month has been the same; 2 warm Weetabix, raspberries, blueberries, a sprinkle of cinnamon and a squirt of honey. I'm always hungry afterwards.


If I snack throughout the day it's Babybel or Hula Hoops. Other than that, I'm powered by Jasmine tea; approximately a litre of the stuff. Whether it's true or not, every sip makes me feel as though I'm doing my body a favour. You know, hydrating my temple. 

Working on a book is the easy, pleasant part of my day. I'll begin around 10 am. By this time the coffee has entered my bloodstream, I feel slightly more awake and I've had my yummy, yet entirely unfulfilling breakfast. Depending on my mood and after fighting with the Sonos system which never does what I want it to, I'll either listen to Magic FM, some jazz, or Hans Zimmer. Occasionally I'll put on some Brazilian Bossa Nova, just to feel cultured and Summery.


If I'm not working on a book, maybe I've got some copywriting to do for a brand or business. Being a freelance copywriter means I spend a lot of time either talking to myself, or talking to clients. If I'm talking to clients what I'm most likely doing is justifying my work and failing miserably. 

I take no shame in admitting that I talk to myself when no one's home. Not for any bothersome reason, but just to check I'm alive. Sometimes I'll read sections of what I'm writing out loud and giggle at what I've written as if it's the first time I'm hearing it. I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or something to be concerned about. Don't answer that.

I often forget to brush my teeth until around 3pm. I have no excuse, it just slips my mind. Fear not, this isn't something that seems to concern my hygienist. Every time I visit, she comments on what an impressive tooth-brusher I am. Of course, not brushing them is not an option when it comes to venturing out of the house and into the real world, but when I'm working from home it's just not at the top of my list.


Not as important as the pigeons, anyway.

I've got into a habit of rearranging the furniture in the office as a form of procrastination. I'll get up out of my chair with extreme urgency and decide that I no longer want my desk to be facing that way. The odds are, by the end of the day I've Feng-Shuied the entire room for the tenth time that month.

Yes, you'd be correct to assume that I have daytime pyjamas and night time pyjamas. They fulfil totally different needs. I'll usually finish around 6/7pm. This is when I can no longer see straight and I've lost all sensation in my limbs.  At this point, I'll have a shower or cry, depending on how productive I've been.


I like long, extra hot showers; so hot that I almost faint and my skin starts to look like strawberry jam. I like to live life on the edge. I then go downstairs and begin cooking dinner. I try to eat a lot of greens. And sweet potato. And salmon. Omega 3 is good for the brain and I happen to have one of those so I like to take care of it. I'm not exercising my body physically, so it's the least I can do. However, I really do love Deliveroo and I'm sure I'm a most valued customer.

After dinner I'll lie on the sofa and try to not eat anything sweet. I often fail. Chocolate is my weakness and I get tempted by Digestives biscuits. I'll then spend the short remaining hours of the evening scrolling between TikTok, YouTube, BBC iPlayer, Netflix and 4OD. Life just got more complicated because I've added Now TV and Disney Plus into the mix. Sometimes I end up not watching anything at all; just exploring my options aimlessly flicking from one serial killer doc to the next. Sometimes this is actually more entertaining.

Around 10pm, after I've wasted hours of my life doing not much at all, I'll get into bed and pick up one of my many half-finished books politely perched on my bedside table, staring at me, making me feel guilty. I'll try to read at least 5 pages before falling asleep. I usually manage it. I read in the hope to become a better writer. I can only hope it's working. 

I fall asleep with my face smushed deep into my pillow, hoping that pigeons don't wake me up in the middle of the night and if they do, that I manage to shoot one. I'll move about 750 times throughout the night and often wake up to my pillow on the floor, at the opposite end of the bedroom. And then the same day repeats itself once more...

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